


Proof of Surival

by DeepDisiresLonging



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Avengers Tower, F/M, Mention of injuries, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:55:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24322396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeepDisiresLonging/pseuds/DeepDisiresLonging
Summary: “We’re Alive” sex after a rough mission.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 63





	Proof of Surival

Teeth. Hair pulling. Nails. Torn tactical gear. 

Nothing like a post-mission “oh my gosh we’re somehow alive” fuck.

Everybody had a spot in the tower. Bucky’s was a closet off the hanger. Wanda’s was that one hallway to nowhere. And Steve’s was the back of his door. Where you were pinned presently.

Your ears were still ringing from the explosions. There were cuts on your thighs and back. He was still covered in grime head to toe. Both of you messy with sweat. Didn’t matter. As long as you were between his legs for the next several moments of your life, you didn’t need anything else. 

Steve hissed with a chuckle as you bit at the curve of his neck. He clawed your hip in retribution. The bruise already there made you arch into his chest. Up into his exploring mouth. Later you would trace your fingers over the bite marks on your chest. Could they be called love-bites? Or proof of survival? Steve fumbled your clothes out of the way for his weeping cock. No time to think. 

“Don’t you ever run off like that,” he growled. In a few thrusts you were filled. “Couldn’t find you. Couldn’t hear you on the coms.”

“I know.”

“Thought the worst.”

You gasped as his pace picked up. So close. Both of you. Running your fingers through his hair knocked loose some of the dirt. His mouth closed over yours. Less oxygen. Don’t think. Feel. Here. Him. You.

Faster. Harder. Panting. Biting. Gasping. Groaning. His name on your lips. Your name like a thankful prayer. Keening. Higher. Approaching the edge. 

“I’m here.”

“I know.”

“We’re safe. We’re home.”

“Y/N-”

Your body seized and your nails dug into his skin. Steve only made it a few more thrusts before he shivered solid against you and the door. Pulling out, he sagged into you. Both of your releases ran down your leg. 

Full. Always so full. 

Steve pushed your hair out of your face. His blue eyes shimmered with post-orgasm ecstasy and exhaustion. Without a word, he dragged you off to the shower for another chance to feel your skin on his. 


End file.
